


Craving & Feeding

by Statari



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cock Worship, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Quarantine Contribution, Stiles Stilinski Has an Oral Fixation, because MAGIC, cock nursing, unrealistic amounts of come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Statari/pseuds/Statari
Summary: Ever have that craving you just can't satisfy?  Good thing Peter knows exactly what will satisfy Stiles' craving.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 236





	Craving & Feeding

“Something I can help you find, darling?” Peter asked as the cabinet door thumped against its frame. He glanced up from his crossword puzzle, eyeing the slender back presented to him. Stiles had only been awake for half an hour and he had used the last ten minutes to pace around the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard.

Stiles sighed and slumped forward on the counter. His thread-bare and sagging boxer shorts did nothing for the view but his small shirt did ride up and reveal a rather enticing strip of skin where the shorts rode low.

“No,” Stiles told the granite counter top.

“Beg pardon?”

Standing up straight and turning to face him with one hand on a canted hip, Stiles shot him an unimpressed look. He knew perfectly well that Peter had heard him and would have heard him even if enhanced hearing were not a factor. 

“I can’t decide what I to eat for breakfast.”

An uptick of his heartbeat. Peter set down his pencil with a growing smirk. Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms which pulled his navy blue t-shirt tight across his chest. The fall of his parted knees caused his grey sweatpants to crease around his currently quiet bulge.

“Is that so?” Peter asked.

Stiles licked his lips anyway, unable to help the skitter of his gaze across Peter’s body now that it was being displayed for him.

Peter tilted his head, causing Stiles to shift uncomfortably. The man could read him like a book, dammit. Already the low thrum of energy that had woken him up this morning was beginning to coalesce in his groin, making him chew on his lower lip in a vain attempt to satisfy the craving that had him uselessly searching the cupboards. Truthfully, he hated having to ask for this. Peter was usually so good about insisting that he hardly ever had to. Stiles blinked a few times and nodded.

“Well, while you’re mucking about in our cupboards, you can make me some tea,” Peter said before picking up his crossword puzzle and standing to leave the kitchen.

Arousal shot through Stiles at the dismissive command. There was only a brief smirk from Peter as he shuffled off to the living room before Stiles was whipping around and launching himself at the cabinet that held their teas and herbs. Most of them were innocuous things used in cooking but some of them were a bit more interesting, gathered with the sole purpose of experimenting after lessons with Deaton. 

But behind the little containers of sage and parsley was a squat little mason jar with a red paper label. In Stile’s block letters, it read: Peter’s Tea - Do Not Touch. It was in Stiles’ hand so fast that the container of parsley fell out onto the counter. 

Throwing the parsley back into the cabinet without care, Stiles put the tea leaves on the counter and filled a mug with water. While it microwaved, Stiles measured out the precise dosage with hands that shook in expectation.

The living room was blessedly dim when Stiles came in with the mug of tea. Peter must have drawn the curtains shut before he settled down under his floor lamp. He had turned on the stereo too, some sort of soft classical music Stiles never had the patience to listen to. That was precisely the reason though, wasn’t it.

Setting the mug down, Stile was able to slide to his knees on the thick cushion between Peter’s feet and not get distracted by anything else in the room. He didn’t hesitate to rub his cheek along the inside of one strong thigh, breathing in through his nose the cedar smell of Peter’s body wash and fresh powder smell of his laundry detergent. He wished Peter was naked so the smell of the sweat and musk between his legs was more prominent. His mouth watered, knowing his wish would soon be fulfilled.

Not yet, Peter would tell him when it was time.

The sound of the mug being picked up from the glass surface of the side table made Stiles open his eyes and look up. Peter inspected the contents with a flare of nostrils. Satisfied, he took his first sip and rested the mug back down on the arm of his chair, looking down at Stiles.

Stiles licked his lips and shifted closer, as close as the armchair would let him get while he was sitting back on his heels like this. Drink it, the whole thing, Stiles wanted to say. He kept quiet.

Peter’s heavy hand curled around the back of Stiles’ head, coming through strands of hair that sent shivers down racing across his scalp and down over his shoulders. It elicited a fond smile from Peter, to see him quiver like that from so small a gesture. IT was almost a shame to give in to the gentle pressure that led Stiles forward, if only because it meant he wouldn’t get to see that expression any more, but when his face made contact with Peter’s still-clothed groin, he promptly forgot.

The breath Stiles shuddered out was hot and moist in the close confines between Peter’s thighs, smelling faintly of mint toothpaste. The moisture cooled rapidly as Stiles rubbed his lips over the growing bulge. The soft, sensitive skin on his lips began to tingle with the texture of the cotton weave.

Without warning, Stiles shoved his face into the crease of Peter’s groin, huffing in panting breaths of desperation as the erection against his cheek finally began to grow. Peter’s hand was a constant pressure against his head, not directing but definitely present. It still allowed Stiles to move as he wanted, nuzzling and mumbling against Peter’s cock and balls.

Fuck, it was so close. One layer of cloth was all the prevented Stiles from getting his mouth on Peter and sucking him down. Even saturated with the drool his watering mouth had been producing, the fabric dulled the smell. The only things Stiles could taste was cotton and spit. Nosing in between the shaft of Peter’s cock and the swell of his balls made Peter clench his thighs tighter around Stiles’ rib cage. It was as good as a shout of approval, so Stiles kept nosing at the juncture, mouthing at the swell of testicles on the lower side. By the time he reached the head the bitter taste of precome was straining through the fabric. His groan must have vibrated down the shaft because another spurt of it seeped through the taste of spit,

Peter’s hand left the back of his neck but when it invaded the space between Stiles’ mouth and its prize, it was only to shove the waistband of his sweatpants down and hook it underneath his balls, putting himself on display for Stiles.

“Is this what you were craving?” Peter rasped, wrapping his hand around his shaft. Precome was dribbling from the slit and gathering on the ridge of pulled back foreskin. 

“Please.” His tongue hovered on his lower lip, ready for a taste.

“Please what?”

A heated blush burned on Stiles cheekbones. Peter wasn’t going to make him say it, was he?

Peter raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Please, feed me,” Stile rasped in embarrassment, despite knowing this to be the absolute safest place for him to express the desire.

The smile on Peter’s face was fond and the hand he swept over Stiles hair was loving. He pulled Stiles close again, this time going slowly and taking care to slide the tip of his cock across Stile’s parted lips.

Slippery and slick, the glans passed over his skin. Stiles pursed his lips to get purchase and suck on it, pulling the precome into his mouth and across his tongue. 

A rumble from Peter’s chest and all the tension disappeared from his body as he settled in to let Stiles nurse at the cock in his mouth like a child from a teat, pulling on the tip with soft and rhythmic sucking. 

It was so fucking glorious. 

For a boy like Stiles, whose mind ran so fast that it was hard to focus on any one thing, having the ability to shut everything out and focus on doing one thing that brought both him and Peter pleasure was the best feeling in the world. Peter, of course, enjoyed the wet heat surrounding his cock and the subtle power play that had Stiles coming to him to fulfill a need.

And Stiles needed this. He needed the throb of the vein against his lower lip and the slide of that thick rounded head pushing his lips apart. Most of all, he needed Peter to come.

Stiles stared at the faintly furred skin of Peter’s lower stomach just barely visible in the shadow of the armchair cast by the lamp. If Peter could see his eyes, they’d be nearly black with desire. Stiles took a deep breath in through his nose and redoubled his efforts, sucking hard and with purpose at the cock in his mouth. 

“Mouth like a god-damn vacuum,” Peter growled, tightening his grip on Stiles’ hair. 

There were days that Stiles could make it good, draw it out with finesse, but not today. He pulled on the hot flesh, pulsing his tongue against it again and again. He was close already. Stiles could always tell by the quivering of the skin just below the head. Stiles sealed his lips fast around it and laved his tongue across the slit.

The first few spurts of come were much like they usually were, viscous and faintly bitter in a satisfying mouthful. Satisfying on a normal day, anyway. On days like today, though, it just wasn’t enough. Stiles wanted more and he would bemoan the fact that even when Peter got hard again there wasn’t as much the second or third time. Which is when Peter bought his special blend of tea.

With that tea fresh in his system, he just kept coming. 

Stiles groaned with the fresh realization that he was getting what he needed and practically collapsed down into the seat cushion. His cheek rested on Peter’s thigh, neck muscles completely relaxed as he gently worked the hard cock. Every soft suck was rewarded with another mouthful, thinner than usual but every bit as satisfying. He pulled and pulled and pulled with lips and tongue, swallowing every drop of spit and come generated between the two of them.

He opened his mouth to gasp for a full breath, the next wave landed across his face. Stiles mouthed at the head again while Peter smeared it from his jaw to his cheekbone.

Peter’s face was shining with sweat, his eyes glimmering blue in the dim light as he watched Stiles drink him down.

For a split second, Stile wished Peter could fuck him like this, while Stiles nursed on his cock to satisfy the aching emptiness in his stomach and in his chest. He would gladly sustain himself on Peter’s cock every day, if only in contained the nutrients necessary for…

His mind began to spiral on the sorts of ingredients he could add to Peter’s tea to make that happen. Maybe…

Pain lanced across his scalp when his attention began to wander, drawing him sharply back to the task at hand and Peter’s now darkened stare. “Pay attention,” Peter purred, flashing a fang at Stiles. “Wouldn’t want to waste any, now would we?”

Stiles whined around his mouthful.

“Greedy thing,” Peter observed fondly. He traced the tip of one claw around Stiles’ mouth.

His eyelids slipped shut with delight at the soft treatment. Peter’s smell and taste, even to his dull senses, cocooned him in warmth, arousal, and acceptance. He swallowed again and rolled his eyes open because Peter liked to see what this did to him, the hazy look in his eyes.

“I could feed you like this every day and you would still fidget and lick your lips until I gave you more, wouldn’t you? Fear not, darling, I would never leave you hungry.”

It was so close to Stiles’ previous thoughts that it nearly jolted him right back out of his daze and into thinking of ways to make it happen again. He whined, not wanting to leave yet with his lover’s milk still gushing from the slit in his cock.

“Hush now,” Peter soothed, petting Stiles. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

He was right. This was happening now and Stiles would enjoy it. He blinked slowly and held the next mouthful without swallowing, allowing the magically extended orgasm to add and add to it until just a little began to seep out at the corner of his mouth, then swallow. Peter pushed the rivulet of escaped come with the back of one claw back into his mouth.

Stiles hummed in thanks, which earned him an amused chuckle as Peter picked the pencil up again and turned his attention back to his crossword.

By the time it slowed down and the mouthfuls became too small to be satisfying, Stile pulled back. He watched as Peter’s cock gave yet another feeble attempt, ooozing come across the head. He mouthed at it, sticky and thin until it coated his lips.

Hooking Peter’s balls in the webbing between forefinger and thumb, Stiles pressed the heel of his hand into the perineum. Even through the barrier of the sweatpants and flesh, massaging Peter’s prostate earned him two more dribbles that he was able to lick up from the red and glistening skin. 

Peter sighed and let his head fall back when his orgasm finally concluded and he had given all he had to give. He pulled on Stile’s hair until he climbed up from the floor and stradled Peter’s lap. 

There was still a thin coat of come applied to Stiles’ mouth like lip gloss. Peter studied for a second before leaning up to lick at it with a wildly roving tongue that slid across his chin and dipped behind his teeth with he could do nothing but pant into Peter’s open mouth.

When Peter pulled away, he was grinning. “I may have worked up an appetite,” he murmured against Stiles’ mouth.

“Yeah?” Stiles gasped. “Anything in particular you’re craving?”

Peter’s hands slid up the outside of Stiles thighs, ruffling the hair on them until they skimmed over the legs of his boxers instead. His palm was broad and burning hot through the thin fabric. Stiles shifted his hips as a finger slid down his crack and settled over his clenching hole.

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Peter promised with a grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Stuck at home? Going stir crazy? Can't find anything to satisfy a very specific kink? Write your own, I guess.
> 
> This is easily the kinkiest thing I've ever [i]written[/i]. -cough- So I would love to know what you guys think of it. Comments and kudos will sustain me through this quarantine!


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